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by thegreatchengis



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Falling In Love, Football | Soccer, Friendship/Love, Mutual Pining, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 15:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatchengis/pseuds/thegreatchengis
Summary: It doesn’t matter that she’s only 7, when she meets Clarke Lexa’s whole life changes.Or:Childhood friends to lovers au





	Home

If she thinks hard about it, she’s always been a sucker for girls. Blondes, redheads, brunettes, skinny girls, fat girls, feminine girls, butch girls. Really, her tastes range from everything to anything. As long as it’s a girl. All they have to do is bat their eyelashes and it has her scrambling to impress them.

When Clarke Griffin knocks her on her ass on the playground at the age of 7 all Lexa can really think is how blue her eyes are. She squints up at her from the ground ignoring the throbbing on her backside. The blonde renders her speechless for a few moments. It’s another familiar tugging at _something _that Lexa’s been feeling lately. Like when Stacy from next door and her play house and she has to play the husband. She can't explain it but it creates a longing in her. She doesn’t have the words for it yet so she puts it in the back of her mind.

The blonde extends her hand out to her and it takes a few seconds before Lexa even registers it.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay!?” The girl asks in panic.

What Lexa should do is huff and push her back. Ask her what her problem is.

What she does is take the extended hand numbly and flash a lopsided grin.

“Hurts a bit. I should be okay.”

“My friends and I were playing tag. I didn’t see you there.” She says.

Before Lexa can reply another girl shouts over to them, hand on her hips and clearly exasperated.

“Clarke! C’mon!”

The girl-Clarke looks over at the other girl and shouts back, “Hold on. I’ll be right there!” she turns back and smiles, “Do you want to play with us?”

Lexa looks over to the forgotten soccer ball she was playing with and smiles back. And that’s when Lexa first realizes she could never say no to girls.

She smiles back and nods.

…

From that day they’re inseparable. Lexa’s always been the quiet one but Clarke, Clarke is always scheming. All she has to do is ask and Lexa’s in. That’s how they find themselves sneaking away one night to the woods at the outskirts of their town. They’re only 11, not nearly old enough for nightly excursions but it doesn’t bother them.

Lexa feels free running under the moonlight over the bushes and fallen trees. Clarke is right in front of her paving the way. And Lexa always follows.

When they tire themselves out they sit by river bank, dipping their toes in the water. Clarke bumps her with her side from time to time and Lexa bumps right back.

“I bet you’re too chicken to swim in the river.” Clarke challenges.

Lexa hopes Clarke can't see the big gulp she takes as soon as the words leave Clarke’s mouth. But she puffs out her chest and stands up. She takes off her pants and pulls her shirt over her head. And she’s off like a shot, barrelling into the cold water with a splash. When she resurfaces, Clarke is looking at her in horror.

“I didn’t think you were gonna do it!” she yells.

“I’m never too chicken Clarke.” She shivers. But by now the freezing chill of the water has taken a home in her bones so she dives back under. When she comes back up for air she sees Clarke in a similar state of undress. She’s scrambling to get her shoe off, hopping on one foot.

“Are you coming in or not?” Lexa grins.

“Hold on.” When she finally has her shoe off, she throws it behind her and it lands somewhere in the bushes. “I’m coming in!” she shouts and jumps off the bank in one swift move. She lands somewhere next to Lexa.

“It’s so cold.” Clarke’s teeth chatter adorably as she speaks. “This was not my best idea.”

“None of yours ever are.” Lexa says fondly. She puts her arms around Clarke to warm her up.

“He-ey! That’s-so-mean.” She says in between violent shivers.

“C’mon it’s not so cold if you swim through it.” Lexa takes her hand under the water and leads her as she begins to swim.

Later on when they huddle for warmth on the bank, Lexa thinks she can finally grasp it. That feeling deep inside when she looks at girls. They’re supposed to be freezing but every time Clarke hugs her tighter all Lexa can feel is a warmth pooling inside and bursting out from within. She feels it in the tips of her toes all the way up to her ears.

And she realizes, she likes girls.

…

Lexa keeps her secret to herself. She doesn’t know how her parents or her friends will take it. And Clarke. God she worries most about Clarke. What if Clarke is disgusted by her? What if she takes back her friendship? It frightens her to no end.

Every time she thinks of it she goes further into her shell. But no matter how hard she tries she never says no to Clarke.

They’re 13 years old. It’s just another day at the Woods household. Clarke is over for a sleepover. Clarke whose newfound fascination is boys. Lexa doesn’t know what to say when the topic comes up but one thing she knows for sure is Clarke can’t find out exactly how out of sorts Lexa is with boys.

“I always find sports so hot. Guys who play sports are like at the top of my list.” Clarke babbles from her bed, twirling her blonde locks. She’s in short shorts, her legs on full display and a tank top that shows more skin than it covers up. Her chest is heavy, spilling out of her top. Clarke complains about how fast they grew but in Lexa’s eyes they’re perfect. She wills herself not to look but she can't help it. She’s always been so weak for girls. Clarke especially. She stares transfixed at Clarke, her mouth going dry.

“Lex are you even listening?”

“What? Course I am. You like sports.” Lexa scoffs.

“Nooo. I said I like guys who play sports.” Clarke rolls over to face her.

“Right. That’s what I meant.” Lexa stores that information deep in her mind. She thinks of the soccer ball gathering dust in her garage.

“What’s going on with you recently? You’ve been so quiet. Well. More than usual.” Clarke prods, cocking a brow.

“Nothing. I’ve just been busy with school. You know how it is.”

“Yes. I go to the same grade as you. It’s not that hard.”

“You’ve always been brilliant.” Lexa blurts out.

“Please.” Clarke rolls her eyes. “You are like effortlessly smart. You’re my best friend Lex. I know when you’re hiding something big. Just tell me when you’re ready kay?”

Lexa just nods wordlessly. She knows she’ll never tell. Not when she doesn’t even understand it most of the time.

She joins the soccer team the next day.

…

They’re 14 when Clarke has her first kiss. Clarke gushes about Finn Collins to her. Lexa just feels so empty. The pain beats deep under her ribs but she pushes it in deeper. She plasters on the best fake smile she can muster.

Clarke doesn’t notice because she’s too busy fawning over the kiss.

Lexa thinks she must move on before the pain envelops her.

…

Sometimes when she looks at Costia she feels the same spark as with Clarke. She’s a striker like Lexa. When they’re on the pitch it’s like a sixth sense. She always knows where Costia is and vice versa. They compete for goals and assists. Off the pitch she finds herself craving the flash of raven hair in the crowd instead of blonde. And it’s a relief.

Now that Clarke is with Finn, they spend less and less time together. When they are together Clarke is always itching for her phone or talking about Finn.

Lexa should tell her off. Lexa should ask her why she’s forgotten that they’re best friends.

But she doesn’t.

She smiles and thinks of ebony skin and curly hair.

…

Lexa gets her first kiss under the bleachers at the age of 15.

The past few weeks she feels a shift in her relationship with Costia. Lingering touches and nonstop texts. When they’re together everything else melts away. School. Parents. Coaches. Teachers. Clarke.

When she sees Costia’s eyes flutter to her lips, she knows she’s not alone in feeling this.

Lexa has never been brave. She’s always just followed Clarke. Everything she’s done was to impress her.

But standing there, the smell of freshly cut grass wafting through the air she thinks maybe she is brave. She stands tall, completely in her element. This is her turf. This is where she stands victorious. Adrenaline pumps through her veins and she hears her heart beating out of control.

She leans in and cups Costia’s face, pressing her lips against hers. She feels so soft. It’s a chaste kiss but it’s enough to light a spark inside.

And if she’s ever had any doubts about her love for girls it’s gone in a flash.

“Finally, I was wondering when you’d do that.” Costia smirks.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Lexa asks breathlessly.

“I figured I’d give you a chance for once.”

Lexa replies with kisses instead of words.

…

42 kisses for Lexa and 30 for Costia.

Lexa keeps count of who initiates kisses next to their tally of goals. She’s ahead in both and it surges her with pride.

Keeping her blossoming relationship under wraps is hard. Especially when all she wants to do is kiss Costia and hold her hand. But their town is small and harsh words and judging eyes follow anyone who deviates from the norm.

Thankfully Lexa is a master at sneaking out after years with Clarke. Some nights she climbs into Costia’s room and leaves before dawn. Some nights they walk the empty streets together. Some nights they sneak into the soccer field and sneak a couple of 1 on 1 games. Lexa always wins but Costia is still smug. It’s just one of the things she loves about her. Her unyielding confidence.

Loves.

She thinks with a startle.

They’ve only been dating for two months.

She understands now why Clarke fell so hard for Finn.

She passes Clarke in the hallways and sometimes they have the same class. They sleepover once a month. But the secret between them has grown monstrous. It looms over Lexa’s every interaction with her. She wants her best friend back. She wants to gush about Costia the same way Clarke did with Finn. She wants her support, her shoulder. But all she does is push and push her away.

Finally one night on their monthly sleepover Clarke demands to know what is wrong with her.

“We never even talk anymore. You’re always with that Costia girl. What does she have that I don’t have?” Clarke shouts.

Lexa can't really hold it in anymore. After all she’s different now. She’s brave.

“I’m-we’re-we’re dating.” She confesses.

A hush falls over her room. Clarke’s eyes are wide after the confession. She’s speechless.

Lexa falters, thinks maybe she’s not so brave anymore. She’s ruined her friendship. Over the one thing she could never control. She starts to cry. She collapses on the bed, head in her hands and bawling her heart out.

But before she knows it, soft arms envelop her and hold her there.

“Why are you crying?” Clarke whispers.

“Aren’t you disgusted by me? I’d understand if you wanted to leave.” Lexa stutters in between tears.

“I could never leave you. You’re my best friend.” Clarke rubs her back in soothing circles. “Lex please look at me.”

“I have snot coming out of my nose.” Lexa hiccups.

“I don’t care.”

Lexa looks up from her hands.

“I love you and accept you. You could never be disgusting. Thank you for telling me. I guess I-“ Clarke scratches her head. “I guess I always kind of knew. You never talked about boys. And you’ve always been kind of sucker for girls.”

“I have not!” Lexa lets out a wet giggle.

“Remember when Rachel Anders said you would look good with short hair? You got a boy cut the next day.”

“Rachel Anders was hot.” Lexa grins.

Clarke rolls her eyes with a smile. “How long have you known?”

“Um… since I was like 11. I always felt different around girls but I knew for sure back then.”

“And you kept it from me for 4 years?” Clarke asks incredulously.

“I was always scared you’d leave.” Lexa looks at her lap, tears threatening to spill again.

“I told you I’d never leave you. Promise me you won't let secrets come between us again. It’s you and me against the world. Not Finn. Not Costia.”

“I promise.”

…

16 starts off as a good year for Lexa. She has the girl and she has her best friend. She’s great at soccer. Her coaches tell her she’s good enough to play at college level. She doesn’t really know what she wants to do. She’s good at soccer and most subjects at school have never really captured her attention. She thinks of how invincible she feels on the pitch with the captains arm band. Her teammates fall in line at her word and together they win more trophies than their school cabinet can hold.

Perhaps college level soccer is the right path after all.

Then it all goes to shit.

Costia’s parents find her naked in her bed one day and the dream shatters. They scramble for their clothes while her parents fume at the doorway. She looks to the open window and thinks of how easy it would be to jump out. Sure she’d have a sprained ankle but it would save her from raging parents. But she looks at Costia’s downcast eyes and knows she can't leave her alone for this.

At the doorway her dad grabs Lexa’s arm. She can feel the bruise forming and she jerks but he is resolute in his grip.

“You’re in trouble girl.”

Lexa wants to be brave. But she’s just a 16 year old. She trembles.

“Dad let go of her.” Costia comes in between them, pushing at his chest with all her might. He stumbles back letting go of Lexa’s aching arm.

“You fucking dyke!” He slaps her girl in the face and Lexa sees red. She gathers her strength from her shaking limbs and stands between father and daughter.

“Don’t touch her.” Her tone is icy and final. Even he is speechless for a moment at the gall of her.

“Jackson enough!” Costia’s mother holds him back from launching at Lexa. “Downstairs both of you!”

Even in all her bravery, Lexa is relieved.

They wait in the living room while Lexa’s parents are on their way. She can see the red handprint on Costia’s cheek and all she wants to do is reach over and take her pain away. But doing so results in sure death. She sees it in the fire in Costia’s father’s eyes.

She is terrified of what her parents will say. They are understanding enough never to dismiss people for their sexuality but fear still grips her heart. This is their daughter. It’s a different matter.

When her parents arrive they apologize profusely to Costia’s parents for her behaviour. As if what they were doing was wrong. As if their love was a crime.

Something so pure, so beautiful should never be apologized for.

They take her away and at the door she looks at Costia’s trembling face. Their eyes connect and Costia lets out a pitiful sob.

Somewhere deep inside, they both know.

It’s the last time they’ll ever see each other.

…

Costia’s gone the next day. Out of school. Out of town. Out of state. She finds out when they peel off her name from the team board at training next day.

The only traces of Costia are in her memories.

And Lexa drowns.

Her parents try to pick her off her feet. She is infinitely grateful for their support. They’ve accepted her with open arms but somehow it doesn’t matter to her as much as it should. All she wants is her girl.

Clarke stays by her side night and day. She is grateful for her arms. She doesn’t if she would have even survived without her.

One night, months after Costia’s departure, she looks at Clarke’s slumbering figure on her bed. Moonlight bounces off her blonde hair illuminating her face. She’s wearing superman underwear and one of Lexa’s faded old jerseys.

Lexa thinks perhaps she can love again.

Somehow it feels inevitable that it’ll always be Clarke.

…

In a strange turn of events Clarke breaks up with Finn when they’re 17. She comes out as bisexual to Lexa and it’s startling.

She’s always made comments on girls that toe the line. Lexa has caught her staring at the cheerleading squad more the game at hand sometimes. But she has always thought they were more for Lexa’s benefit. To make her feel more at ease.

She grins and puts her arms around Clarke pushing away the fluttering feeling it her chest.

It feels like hope.

…

Despite her somewhat returning feelings for Clarke, Costia haunts her daily. On the pitch sometimes she’ll look up for curly black hair to pass to and when there’s no one there instead she wavers. Her goal count goes down and their team stumble through games. They win but they’re not as unstoppable as before.

Still there are multiple scouts on her tail following her around at games and scribbling away. But she feels her scholarship chances slipping.

She stays back after practice before the finals of the defining tournament. She kicks ball after ball into the net but they either go astray or hit the crossbar. She huffs in frustration.

“You have to let her go.” A voice calls from the back. Lexa jolts and turns around to find Coach Titus standing there with his clipboard.

“I don’t-I don’t understand.” Lexa mumbles.

“Costia. You have to let her go, Lexa. Or you’ll never get your head back in the game.” He says matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know how to.” Lexa kicks the ball pitifully and Titus sighs.

“Recognize it for what it is.”

“Which is?”

“Weakness.”

…

It settles deep within Lexa. She repeats it like a mantra. Weakness. Weakness. Weakness.

When she nets the winning goal in the final, she knows it to be true.

But there is always Clarke. No matter how much she convinces herself of how weak it is her heart still jolts every time Clarke touches her or smiles at her.

Lately there’s been more of that. Clarke touching her that is. She touches her arms when they talk and brushes her hair back with a bite of her lips. Every time she does that Lexa wishes it was her biting those plump lips instead.

There’s one party in particular that stands out in her memory. One night that changed their dynamic forever. They’d been drinking cheap beer and passing around a joint. It’s mostly a chill night. But when Octavia whips out a bottle of tequila and yells “party time bitches!” all hell breaks loose.

She remembers shots. Copious shots are taken and more joints are made. Lexa feels her head whirl with each passing moment. The only grounding, sobering force is the steadfast hold Clarke has on her arm.

“Do you wanna sit outside?” Clarke whispers in her arms and Lexa shivers unconsciously. She nods wordlessly and Clarke entwines her hands. She drags Lexa outside and they sit on the grass. The cold wind blows around them and Clarke huddles closer, resting her head on Lexa’s shoulder.

“Do you remember when we used to sneak out into the woods and swim in the river?” Clarke asks.

Lexa nods.

“And we used to hug each other for warmth afterwards?”

Lexa nods again.

“I used to think of how easy it would have been to kiss you.” Clarke whispers.

Lexa feels her heart constrict and her breath catch in her throat.

“I thought it was just a friendly thing. But I should have known.”

“That you were bi?” she suggests.

“No.” Clarke says picking her head up and looking at Lexa. “That I liked you. I think I always liked you.”

Clarke is drunk and high. Crossfading is never good. It makes people say the craziest things. Clarke could never-it isn’t possible. Not Lexa. Lexa feels her mind whirring out of control with thoughts.

“Clarke…” she croaks. “What are you saying?”

“Have you never thought about it?” Clarke is pleading with her eyes.

“I have.” Lexa confesses. “But we can't-if you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Why not?” Clarke asks defiantly.

“Cause we’re leaving for college in 4 months.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“We just-we just can't okay Clarke?” Lexa stands up and brushes the grass off her jeans. She looks at Clarke one last time. “Go home Clarke. You’re drunk.” She leaves without another word.

She doesn’t go home that night. She walks over to the woods, to the same spot they would spend night after night in. That same riverbank so thick with memories that Lexa struggles to breathe. She tries to convince herself that she did the right thing. That Titus was right but all she feels is emptiness. It feels like she blew the only good thing in her life.

…

Clarke is distant with her. Lexa doesn’t know if it’s because she turned her down or if she’s just embarrassed about coming on to Lexa.

Still the first thing she does after getting a soccer scholarship to University of Polis is run down to Clarke’s house. Clarke opens the door, clad in her painting clothes, there’s still a fresh dollop of yellow paint near the collar. Lexa finds it endearing. She doesn’t think, she hugs Clarke and picks her off her feet.

“Oof.” Clarke grunts. “Lexa what’s going on?”

“I did it! I got into Polis!” Lexa shouts.

“What!? Oh my god!” Clarke hugs Lexa tighter. “I’m so proud of you! I knew you’d get it.”

When they let go there’s a bright yellow spot on Lexa’s shirt.

“Oh shit. I got paint all over you.” Clarke gestures to the spot.

“It’s fine, Clarke. These are my home clothes anyway. I ran here as soon as I found out.”

“No come on. I’ll wash it for you.” Clarke grabs her hand and leads her into the kitchen. “Am I the first person you’ve told?”

“Are you kidding? Of course. Even my parents don’t know yet.”

“I’m flattered.”

“It’s you and me against the world remember?” Lexa grins.

Clarke looks up at her with an indecipherable expression in her eyes. Lexa’s smile falters. Perhaps she thinks the events of that day has forever altered their relationship. Perhaps they’re no longer best friends anymore.

“Take off your shirt.” Clarke demands reaching out.

“I-what?” Lexa stutters.

“So I can take the paint off.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Lexa’s eyes widen but she complies, pulling off the shirt in one fell swoop, leaving her in a black sports bra. For a moment they stand there, eyes wide taking in the sight of each other. Clarke’s face has a lovely flush to it and her eyes are transfixed on Lexa’s abs. Finally she releases a long breath and takes the shirt from Lexa’s hands.

Clarke scrubs the paint off the shirt with a vengeance. She rubs the fabric like it’s tainted with blood and she can't get it off. Her hands start to shake from the effort and Lexa, noticing this, stands closer to put a hand over Clarkes, stilling it immediately.

“Are you okay?” Lexa asks.

“Lexa I…” Clarke whispers. Her eyes fall to Lexa’s lips and a hush falls over them. Time stands still. All Lexa can feel is Clarke’s hot breath on her lips and the beat of her heart in her ears. Her hand starts to sweat and she raises it to grab Clarke’s bicep but instead of pushing her away she pulls her closer.

Lexa doesn’t know who moves first, who beats the punch but the next thing she knows, their lips are touching. First thing Lexa thinks is how soft her lips are. They feel like pillowy clouds against hers. And the taste. She tastes like watermelon lip gloss. They’re so closely attached together the smell of Clarke’s berry shampoo wafts in. When Clarke pulls back a bit, Lexa lets out a soft whine. She chases after her lips but they dip down to press open mouthed kisses on her neck. When Clarke runs a gentle brush against her abs though, Lexa sobers up.

_Weakness._

_Weakness._

_Love is weakness._

Lexa puts her hand on Clarke’s chest and pushes her back. She steps away, determined to put some distance between them to clear her head.

“Lexa…”

“Clarke. You know we can't. We have college coming up. I have soccer. I can't afford any distractions.”

Where Lexa expects trademark Clarke Griffin resistance, she sees resigned acceptance.

“I know.” Clarke whispers so low, it’s a wonder the sound even reached her ears.

“I have to go.”

Lexa runs and never looks back.

…

They don’t speak again. Not even when Lexa goes off to college in another state. Later on she hears from Octavia that Clarke got into Arkadia University. In any other time Lexa would have taken a step back and tried to mend things with Clarke but she’s too busy; settling into college, making new friends and most importantly soccer. Playing college level soccer is vastly different from high school. She spends more time training than catching her breath. Their coach, Indra is intense and she demands the best. Lexa fights tooth and nail to give her that.

Her effort doesn’t go unnoticed, Indra pulls her aside to tell her she has the potential to go pro. It pushes Lexa further until all she does is live and breathe soccer.

When she’s not on the pitch she’s in the bed of strange girls. She doesn’t call back, content to flutter like a butterfly from place to place. Never finding solace, never finding a home.

Home is in Arkadia, studying art. And everything she does is to forget that.

…

The years go by and there’s not a word from Clarke. Even when she goes home for holidays she stays in her room reading or in the garage practicing with that same dusty ball from her childhood. Her parents inquire about Clarke but she keeps shut. What can she say?

Her final year is the toughest trial she’s ever faced.

It happens so suddenly, so quickly. She barely even feels it.

But she hears it.

A sickening crack in her leg.

She covers her face, her tears, as she’s taken off the pitch in a stretcher.

Just like that. Her career, her life; it shatters.

…

If she thought losing Costia and Clarke was tough it’s nothing compared to losing the only constant in her life. Her hopes, her aspirations all gone. Just because of a mistimed tackle.

She falls into a pit of despair. Having never truly faced severe depression before, she finds herself at her wit’s end. Her college friends force her into therapy but nothing can fix the hole in her heart. They even put her on anti-depressants and while it does help to some extent, she still feels hollow. She has never struggled so hard to put words on the screen for her essays. It takes a stern talking to from Indra to finish her degree in physical education.

“You suffered a great loss but it wasn’t the killing blow. You have a gift. No one knows soccer better than you. Teach it. You can still have glory.” Indra tells her.

And so she trudges to the course end.

…

The night before an interview for an assistant coach position she receives a call. It’s Abby. She picks up the phone, heart beating loudly in her chest. She prays it’s not bad news about Clarke. But it is in a way. Jake had a heart attack, he died instantly.

Lexa doesn’t think. It doesn’t matter that she hasn’t spoken to Clarke in 4 years. She packs her bag and purchases an expensive last minute ticket back home. The airport nearest to their town is a 6 hour bus ride away. She arrives in the early hours of dawn, stinking of the 12 hour travel. She doesn’t even go to her house. She runs straight to Clarke’s. It seems like yesterday that she was last here tasting the sweet of Clarke’s lip gloss and breathing her in. It was a simpler time, unburdened by the expectations of adulthood and not seeped with loss.

The sun has risen barely but the lights are still on in the Griffin house. With her heart in her throat, she rings the bell. It doesn’t take long for the door to open. She takes a deep breath.

Clarke looks different. Obviously the toll of her father’s death lays starkly on her face but she’s grown into her body more. Her once long blonde locks have been cut short and the edges are tinged with pink. Her lips are fuller and Lexa wonders very briefly if she still tastes the same.

For a moment they don’t speak, they just breathe the other in. But the ball drops and Clarke’s arms are around her, squeezing the life out. Lexa reciprocates with the same intensity. Clarke starts to shake in her arms and she feels a wetness on her collarbone.

“He’s gone.” She mumbles.

It’s the first word they’ve uttered in four years and it haunts Lexa.

“I know.”

Lexa doesn’t know how long they stand there, holding each other, crying. All she knows is when they finally part she can feel the sun on her back.

For the first time Lexa is at a loss for words. She is a woman of few words but never with Clarke. Now she has no idea. How does one even attempt to take such hurt away? What can she say? She hopes her presence will do what it once used to. She hopes it tethers Clarke to safe harbour. Bring her home from the storm waging all around.

At breakfast, Clarke pushes away the plate of toast and eggs and Abby’s face falls. She looks to Lexa helplessly and she nods. Lexa puts a gentle hand on the small of Clarke’s back.

“Clarke.” She whispers low enough so it’s just loud enough for the both of them. “You have to eat. He wouldn’t want you to fall apart like this. You don’t have to do it for you. Do it for him.”

Clarke shivers and hiccups. They sit there for what seems like hours until finally Clarke picks up a plain unbuttered piece of toast and puts it in her mouth. She eats slowly, chewing until it’s mush and gulping it down with water. Her tears fall freely, staining the bread. Abby and Lexa sit there until both pieces of toast and a nibble of the eggs are done.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Lexa asks.

“I don’t know.” Clarke mumbles hoarsely.

“Not since it happened. Not for 30 hours.” Abby fills in for her.

“Could you go sleep Clarke? You don’t want to collapse at the funeral.” Lexa says softly.

Clarke shakes her head vigorously. “Every time I try, I just-just keep seeing his face and I-”

Before Abby can move, Lexa is there, holding her and stroking her hair.

“I’ll come up and lay with you. I’ll be with you every step.”

Clarke nods wordlessly and slogs up the stairs to her room. Lexa moves to follow but Abby stops her, holding her hand. She hugs Lexa and kisses her forehead.

“Thank you for coming. I didn’t know who else to call. She wasn’t eating or sleeping.”

“I will always be there for her.” Lexa says fiercely.

“I know honey. Now go. Stay with her.”

She finds Clarke on the bed, curled into a ball and crying silently. Lexa takes off her jacket and crawls up next to her. Clarke uncurls herself and latches onto Lexa, resting her head on her chest and sniffling.

It takes a long time for the sobs to subside and she wakes up a couple of times with a violent jerk but eventually Clarke manages to fall into a deep sleep. Lexa too finds herself falling asleep and for the first time since her tragic injury, it’s a dreamless one.

…

The funeral is nice all things considered. Jake Griffin was a well-loved man so it’s packed with people from all around town. Some of their friends, those who were able to fly in are there. Their presence calms Clarke. But she stays glued to Lexa’s side throughout the service. At the reception however Clarke disappears. Lexa assumes she’s with family and decides to leave her be for the time being. Still she wanders around checking every corner, nook and cranny for blonde hair.

Finally when night falls, all the guests leave. Lexa stays behind to help Abby clean up. Once all the dishes have been put away and the sofas have been dusted, Abby retires to her room for a much needed rest. Lexa makes her way to Clarke’s room, tiptoeing. They assumed that Clarke has fallen asleep and Lexa doesn’t want to wake her. What greets her once she opens the door is anything but that.

Clarke is sitting on the floor, mascara running down her cheeks and a bottle of whiskey in her hand. Lexa notes with alarm that a sizeable amount of the bottle is empty. She runs to Clarke and holds her by the shoulders.

“Clarke are you okay?”

“What do you think?” she sneers. “My dad is dead. Lexa my dad is dead. And I’m all alone. He’s left me here.”

Lexa’s at a loss again. So she sits next to Clarke and opens the bottle taking a generous swig herself. She passes it to Clarke wordlessly.

“You’re not alone Clarke. I’m here for you.”

“Are you? You haven’t talked to me in four years. You don’t care about me anymore.”

“I came here didn’t I? I know we haven’t talked but it’s still us against the world. I would do anything for you.”

Clarke doesn’t answer in words. Instead she surges forward and captures Lexa’s lips. As far as kisses go it’s not the best. They hit their teeth and knock their heads together. But Clarke doesn’t give up, she tilts her head and goes in for another. She licks Lexa’s lips, begging for entry but Lexa stops her with a gentle push.

“What are you doing Clarke?”

“Please Lexa. Make me forget. Just for this night. Make me hurt something better.”

Lexa shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But maybe a bit of her own grief of losing her career plays into it.

She holds Clarke by the collar and engulfs her in a fiery kiss. She licks into the roof of her mouth and savours the feeling. Clarke tastes like whiskey and the salt from her tears this time and Lexa collects it in the back of her mind. Files it away for later use.

In her dreams she always imagined this moment to be sweet and full of love. It’s anything but that. It’s dirty and frantic. They’re in a rush to feel each other’s skins. Clothes are torn and thrown haphazardly. They keep their mouths attached, not willing to let go for even a moment. Clarke’s body is everything she imagined it would be and more. She loses herself momentarily in the heave of her full heavy breasts. Clarke falls back on the floor and Lexa covers her body with hers, their breasts touching. Lexa can feel the hard pebbles poking her own. She leaves the warmth of Clarke’s mouth to suckle marks onto the creamy white skin of her neck and breasts. Clarke shudders.

Lexa rests on her elbows and dips her free hand to the front of Clarke’s underwear. There’s a wet spot on the front.

“What do you want?” she asks breathlessly.

“Make it hurt.” Clarke pleads.

“Are you sure?”

Clarke glares. “Yes.”

“You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”

“I won't stop you.” She promises.

Lexa can't wait. She pulls down the panties to Clarke’s ankles and runs an exploratory finger through her soaked folds. She inserts a single finger and her walls greedily take her in.

Tight. Wet. Hot. Lexa never wants to spend another minute outside. She wants to be inside Clarke for all eternity.

“More.” Clarke moans. “I can take it.”

Lexa takes out her finger and puts it in her mouth to suck it. Clarke tastes strong. Heady. Tangy. Just _Clarke. _It’s another thing she files away for later use.

“Get up and turn around. On your elbows and knees.” She orders.

Clarke complies immediately, scrambling up. Her arms shake for a moment and Lexa considers changing the position but Clarke wiggles her butt and throws a heated look over shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

Lexa doesn’t waste any more time. Clarke wants it rough and she’s gonna give it to her. She enters with three fingers and gives Clarke time to adjust to the stretch. When she moans, Lexa starts thrusting. It’s fast. It’s brutal. Her wrist starts to ache but she keeps going. She drapes herself over Clarke’s back and bites into her shoulder. She starts rutting her hips, grinding her centre against Clarke’s ass. Somehow she manoeuvres a finger to rub at Clarke’s clit. The answering shudder sends a jolt to her core. Clarke collapses on the floor, unable to keep herself upright from the pleasure, taking Lexa along with her.

Lexa doesn’t stop her thrusting or her rutting. They’re both close. It’s evident in the loud moans and whines. She breathes into Clarke’s ear, biting the shell of it.

“You’re so tight. So wet for me.” She brings her free hand to scratch the skin on Clarke’s back, leaving angry red lines in her wake. “Are you gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Clarke doesn’t answer. She just shivers.

When that doesn’t satisfy Lexa, she smacks her ass twice. It’s not hard enough to leave any imprints but the sound of flesh being hit echoes in the room.

“Answer me. Are you gonna come?”

“Yes!” Clarke wails.

“Then come.”

With that Lexa works overtime. She abandons her rutting against Clarke’s ass and thrusts harder, rubbing her clit when she can. The slick sound of it reverberates in her ears.

Clarke comes with a loud sinfully pornographic moan. She jolts and Lexa feels a flood of wetness on her hands. She slows down her thrusts to ease Clarke through it. When one orgasm ends another begins. Clarke cries out in pleasure and her body jerks. Finally when she is spent Lexa takes out her fingers.

Her own clit is swollen and throbbing and she needs to get off. Exhaustion rolls off her in droves but she doesn’t care. She goes back to rubbing on Clarke’s ass.

She achieves her orgasm embarrassingly quickly. Watching Clarke come has left her painfully aroused. And what an orgasm it is. She sees stars in her eyes and perhaps it’s because of her partner but she swears it’s the best one she’s ever had. She collapses on top of Clarke’s back, breathing heavily into her ear. She kisses the back of her neck tenderly.

Clarke begins to shake. Lexa rises up quickly and tries to gather her in her arms but Clarke shakes out of her grasp and she begins to cry softly.

Lexa feels helpless. The cloud of lust has faded and she starts to regret her decision.

“Clarke...” she starts, softly.

“Go Lexa.” Clarke hiccups. “Just go. I want to be alone.”

“I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Please. If you love me- if you’ve ever loved me, just go.”

So Lexa goes.

She flies home the next day.

…

It’s almost like the events of that week never took place. They go back to not speaking again. Lexa sends texts to Clarke almost every day for a month but she never receives a reply. Clarke doesn’t even see the messages. In her heartbreak she finally gives up.

Late at night she dreams of Clarke, wondering how she is. If she’s coping with her dad’s death better now. If she’s still drinking alone. If she’s still haunted by nightmares.

She has many regrets in her life. Going to Costia’s house that day. Trying to cross the ball when she got her injury. But the one that sits with her the most is fucking Clarke and ruining their relationship for good. She sees no way for them to get over this hurdle in their friendship. Clarke was grieving, she didn’t know what she was thinking when she asked her to fuck her. Lexa should have been the mature one and cut off the notion. Instead she gave in to her lust. Her inability to say no to girls especially a particular blonde one has cost her dearly.

She doesn’t sleep with anyone else. Her promiscuous college years are behind her. Her regret of the last sexual encounter plays a lot into it as well. Her memories of that night tide her over when the yearning begins. It’s enough most nights. Other nights she tosses and turns, rubbing herself until her hands give out, still not achieving release.

Before she knows it, three years have passed. She has a job as the assistant soccer coach in a high school in Polis. She’s the youngest coach they’ve ever had but that doesn’t deter her. She flourishes in her position. When she first got the job she was scared. She thought she would be jealous of the able bodied women playing so freely.

But Indra was right. She can still have glory. She will defend her team to the death if need be. She gives mind and soul to the herculean effort of helping bring the team to shape. And soon enough by the third year they start winning trophies and netting more goals than before.

She doesn’t even think of Clarke anymore.

Until that is when Octavia’s wedding invitation comes in the mail. She sits down and reads it over for the umpteenth time. Octavia is marrying her high school sweetheart, Lincoln. Back in the town. Their town. And Clarke is going to be there.

Fuck.

…

She almost doesn’t go. But Octavia and Lincoln are the only friends she still has from her high school days. She owes it to them.

It still feels weird; going back home and not seeing Clarke’s face. She even walks by her neighbourhood in a discreet hoodie, staring longingly at the house. It’s still the same. Same red paint, same driveway even the same sedan parked out front. When she hears the front door click open, she turns on her heels and runs back home.

Octavia’s wedding is simple. It’s outdoors where the air is fresh and the birds sing. She recognizes most of the guests but the flash of blonde hair and blue eyes is nowhere to be seen. Their old high school friends are there. Most of them she hasn’t seen in seven years so they spend a while catching up.

Somehow she knows when she arrives. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she rises, looking at the entryway.

Clarke looks radiant. Her blue dress makes the azure of her eyes stand out even more. Her hair is long again, flowing down her shoulders. As much as she liked the pink, she prefers it all blonde and long this way. It gives her an ethereal quality. She almost doesn’t notice the other blonde wrapped in Clarke’s arm. Her blood runs cold.

Their eyes lock and she sees Clarke take a deep breath. Lexa gives a shaky smile and she’s surprised when Clarke returns it. And then there’s hope again.

Clarke makes her way over to their little group. They all gasp and coo over her dress. Clearly they’ve all been in touch with one another. Lexa feels a little left out.

“Guys this is Niylah my girlfriend.” Clarke introduces.

As far as significant others go, Niylah is considerably better than Finn. Still she feels an underlying current of animosity towards Clarke’s girlfriend. She hopes it isn’t noticeable but despite their years apart, Clarke can still read her like the back of her hand. She frowns at Lexa when she greets Niylah.

The reunion is cut short however when Aurora Blake directs them all to sit. The wedding is starting. They take their seats and by some dumb luck (or supreme bad luck), Clarke takes a seat next to her.

Lincoln is already standing at the alter in a white suit. Lexa is a staunch lesbian but even she can admit he looks damn good. Octavia comes in holding her father’s arm as the piano starts to play. Her dress is simple but she looks beautiful.

“She looks so beautiful.” Clarke whispers to Lexa.

“Yes she does.” Lexa says looking at Clarke. It’s painfully obvious Lexa is not talking about the bride.

Clarke doesn’t reply but her cheek tinge pink.

When the bride and groom read their vows, Lexa feels an ache in her chest. She stares at them longingly, peeking at Clarke from time to time. Clarke catches her looking when the couple kiss.

In another life it could have been them up there. If Lexa wasn’t such a coward all those years ago when Clarke asked her to be hers. There wouldn’t have been Niylah, there wouldn’t have been that drunken night of mistakes. There would have been love. There would have been home.

Lexa regrets it all.

She realizes startlingly, she’s still in love with Clarke.

And it doesn’t feel like weakness. It could never be. It makes her stronger.

At the reception, Monty brings out a specially brewed moonshine. They all take a glass of it. It’s better than his usual brews, it doesn’t burn as much going down and it gives her a pleasant buzz.

“So are you tearing up the soccer world?” Jasper asks. “You were always destined for greatness.”

It sobers Lexa up immediately. She coughs awkwardly. “I guess you guys didn’t hear but I got injured in my fourth year. Couldn’t play anymore. I’m just an assistant coach for a high school now.”

They gasp and apologize but Lexa only has eyes for one girl. Clarke looks heartbroken and she extends a hand to rest on her bicep, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She says loudly for everyone. “I’m okay now.” She whispers just loud enough for Clarke’s ears.

As the night progresses and the supply of drinks get smaller, she finds that spark with Clarke returning. It seems Clarke has forgotten the presence of Niylah because she’s wrapped around Lexa arm. She giggles at every shitty joke Lexa makes and whispers her rebuttal jokes only for Lexa. It feels like no time has been lost between them.

Most of the other guests have left. Now it’s just their friends. Most of them, even Octavia and Lincoln are drunk as hell. They’re pleasantly lost in each other, murmuring quietly to themselves. Lexa’s only counting down the minutes till they decide to go home and be lost in each other. She watches as Octavia gently rubs at a drop of moonshine dangling off Lincoln’s chin. It suddenly feels too stifling, watching the couple. She excuses herself to go out for a smoke.

It’s a bad habit she picked up after her injury and she can't seem to shake it off. She takes a cigarette out of her pack and puts it in her mouth. Her hand shakes with the lighter and she can't seem to get it to light. She huffs with the effort.

“Need some help?” Clarke’s husky unmistakeable voice calls out from behind her.

Lexa twirls around and before she can answer, Clarke is already there, plucking the lighter from her trembling hands and lighting the cigarette for her. She takes a long drag and exhales, engulfing the two of them in a cloud of smoke.

“I didn’t know you smoke now.”

“You don’t know a lot about me now.”

“So tell me what I missed.”

Lexa hums and takes another drag. “Do you really want to hear?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

“I have a dog now. I make candles in my free time. My apartment is full of them. They’re about to offer me the job of head coach. I’ve been on anti-depressants since my injury. And I regret that night.”

“Lexa…”

“No listen why. I regret it because if I could I would do it all differently. I would have held you. I would’ve made love to you instead. Because that’s what it would have been. That’s what it is. That’s what it’s always been. I regret saying no when you asked me all those years ago. It haunts me. It-”

Clarke breaks off Lexa’s rambling with a passionate kiss. Lexa’s cigarette falls to the ground and she couldn’t care less. Clarke is kissing her. She wraps her arms around Clarke and pulls her impossibly closer. Today she tastes like moonshine and roasted salmon. But underneath it she tastes just like Clarke. She’s kissed Clarke a couple of times in her life and only now she can truly distinguish her flavour.

“Clarke…” Lexa whispers when they part. “Not like this. Your girlfriend is sitting right there.”

“When have we ever done something the right way?” Clarke asks instead. She fists the front of Lexa’s crisp baby blue shirt and crashes their lips again.

“No.” Lexa pushes her away. “Let’s start from now. Make your decision. I want to do us right. I want us to be standing at the alter one day.”

“Don’t make me choose.” Clarke pleads.

“Make a choice. It’s her or me.” She pulls up Clarke’s hand and kisses it tenderly, capturing the feel of her soft skin, committing it all to memory if it’s the last time. “I’ll be waiting.”

And once again, she walks away from Clarke, hoping it would be the last time.

…

Three months later, she wakes to a knock on the door. It’s pouring rain outside and she almost doesn’t hear it in all the pitter-patter of raindrops. But something pulls her there. She pulls on a shirt and opens the door.

It’s Clarke.

“It’s you. It’s always been you.”

This time she tastes like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that. I know it's a bit of a cliche topic but it's one of my favourite tropes and I hope I've done it justice.


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